


holding on and letting go

by empaten02



Series: slices of creativity [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Cute, Domestic Boyfriends, Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life, They're cute, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 00:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empaten02/pseuds/empaten02
Summary: “How are you still so nervous?”. His father chuckles where he’s working reading his students’ tests, glasses hiding amusement seeing his son slowly losing it.“He’s Jeno”. Jaemin stresses, cheeks curving in a softer smile.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Series: slices of creativity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211282
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	holding on and letting go

Jaemin fixes the couch blankets for the fifth time, hands busy at the tempting obsessive checking of his texts for a new one from his boyfriend. He’s a walking mess, disheveled brown hair from the fingers nervously twisting them in the past hour. 

He sits in the kitchen and stares at his mother preparing a late meal for Jeno to eat later, finally resting from running up and down the stairs with a ragged breath.

“How are you still so nervous?”. His father chuckles where he’s working reading his students’ tests, glasses hiding amusement seeing his son slowly losing it.

“He’s Jeno”. Jaemin stresses, cheeks curving in a softer smile.

He never thought a stupid penpal app he dowloaded while bored in class would lead him meeting who he proudly calls in his mind the first and last love of his life. Jaemin is well aware how lovesick he sounds, insufferable to Renjun and Chenle, the most passionate making fun of him since he met Jeno.

Long distance is demanding, there are times not as happy when all he wants is the physical warmth of a hug. Jaemin needs contact and Jeno is not the best texter he knows. He used to barely check his texts before they became something to depend on for the biggest part of their relationship. 

He’s been learning what it means to truly long for someone, gathering the best from the short term moments they have together, making each of those special and memorable.

Jeno is on a nine hour flight away from him. His brain despite its natural flaws memorizes the clear press of black hair to his chest, the low and rumbling sound of his voice against his skin. A quicker speed of his heartbeat at night to hold onto the long months they can’t lay in bed together when the day is over.

He tries to be content with his phone screen picturing Jeno getting sleepier. Yawning when Jaemin is getting ready for his evening classes and his boyfriend’s day just ended. Laying down on the sheets as he has to leave their ruffled warmth and brush his teeth.

Their first year of relationship can be summed up as a couple of months, which is the amount of time they actually spent next to each other. A part of him, the one throbbing in his chest, is well aware of the importance those digital letters and written words have. 

Some whispered on the phone when one of them was in the darkness of their room at night and the other finally laid in bed after a long morning of classes.

Jeno is on his flight home, where home is not a concrete concept anymore. It’s the tingling of his arms pending to finally feel each strip of firmer and softer skin he can manage in a hug. 

He’s spent a few sleepless nights thinking which places to visit, Jaemin already brought Jeno anywhere that matters in his life on past occasions. He changed his bed to the softest sheets for him to rest from the jet-lag and organized the most trivial details for him.

He left a free drawer for him, where he kept the shirt Jeno slept in last time he visited. 

Jaemin wore it until his familiar smell faded, now resting at the bottom clean, still content it belongs to Jeno. It is a part of him that stays in his house, no matter how far he is.

They surely had rough days. It was harder believing in them, scared to admit it. They eventually said it out loud and hurt; it’s not easy depending completely on texts alone when they’re both busy and prioritizing their lives. 

He can’t tell if Jeno falls asleep whenever he stops replying abruptly, or if he’s fine as he talks about his day that doesn’t sound like a great one. Jaemin can’t see his eyes to make sure he is truly okay. 

It hurts, they need contact; of their meeting gazes or a comforting hand to hold. 

Jaemin takes what he can get, enough to not give up on them. Distance allows saying important things sooner, when it doesn’t withdraw from confessing them. There is time to ponder, nourish all they experience in a few weeks. 

Jaemin slipped the most honest “I love you” less than a month of officially dating. They were watching a movie, Jeno was simply staring at him fondly the whole time, missing the plot delicately scraping his short nails to his stomach.

Jaemin was honestly scared Jeno would find him creepy, feeling an all pounding attachment as quickly as they did. He has a diary where he keeps all the letters they sent, some pictures they took when they met in person the first time. A messy page full of smudged ink where he tried to capture his first kiss with Jeno.

He was planning to find the right moment the whole day. As they were walking through the city and Jeno’s hand bravely shifted close to his palm, a sheepish smile forming as they kept walking hand in hand through the mall shops. He remembers seeing the reflection of their intertwined hands on a display and he suddenly wasn’t nervous about what the ladies behind them shopping would think, proud of the sight.

He secretly took a couple of pictures of Jeno as he was finding the best angle to snap a picture with his phone at a historical fountain, autumn dirtying in colorful leaves on the path of a park. 

They sat at a bench and Jaemin was sure it was finally the time. Jeno slipped a gum in his mouth and offered him one, chatting about bubble tea flavors they had earlier that day.

Jaemin mentally whined, how was he going to kiss him. They had bought matching phone cases, both with their initials, Jeno’s black and Jaemin’s pink. He texted his mother they were getting home soon, giving it back to Jeno grinning at some pictures.

They kept talking, sharing photos and backstories of friends and places they couldn’t know yet. Jeno crossed legged on the bench they were sitting on, cold fingers playing and slipping inside Jaemin’s pocket. 

Some middle school kids were being noisy, playing not too far from them. Making Jaemin self aware they were still in public.

Jeno finally got rid of his gum, and Jaemin was about to chicken out. He wanted to kiss Jeno so badly all day, desperately finding the right words to ask, or maybe he had to just go for it. 

He was afraid of being rejected. When they decided to meet it was mainly for their built friendship through the letters and video calls, but they also did speak about feelings that were clearly there at some point. 

They were both careful to admit them truthfully, promising they would have met and see if they could work it out. Jaemin was swimming in the security behind that “seeing what happens”. 

Jeno was talking and he stopped listening, focused on finding the right words to say.

He still cringes when he thinks of how he held Jeno’s hand and hesitated, coming out with an awkward “So, uhm, now your gum is gone I think I’ll-”.

To his luck Jeno smiled, nodding as he closed his eyes and Jaemin kissed him, cold and chapped kiss he wet them with his tongue, unreal seconds he can’t define. He was indeed kissing Jeno and nothing else mattered, his cheek held and a delicate thumb made them pull.

“I want to kiss you more, but I’m afraid someone will hurt us”.

It made sense. Jaemin realized they live in different places ending their first kiss. 

Jeno comes from Incheon, and Jaemin always hesitates kissing any of his past boyfriends in public yet he knows Korea generally treats homosexuality as a bigger taboo. They don’t have the same freedom when it’s Jaemin visiting, and Jaemin gets the weight of it even in his hometown. There’s always a possibility of having unfortunate encounters. 

Jaemin is korean himself; he grew up in Europe, and as much as he loves exploring where his family roots are, they both prefer spending time at his place when it comes to going out and being the couple they are. 

The difference isn’t drastically any better, albeit Jaemin can hold Jeno’s hand more confidently where he lives, outside of their homes. He coexists with occasional slanted stares or judging whispers, those are still terrifyingly normal in today’s society. 

At least Jeno and Jaemin don’t have to deal with it where it matters. Their parents are amazingly accepting. Jaemin is glad for the warmth he found in Jeno’s house the moment he stepped there, it was clear and official they were dating when he did. 

Jaemin drove them back to his house at the end of their first date. Jeno pulled him for a second kiss before they could get out of the vehicle, and so he did when they got inside Jaemin’s room. 

Jeno’s first visit happened when his parents didn’t know there was a possibility they could be more than friends. They were quick to catch up with it when they looked too comfortable around the other to be only on friendly terms.

Jaemin remembers understanding what it meant to have butterflies in his stomach, curious to feel Jeno’s hair between the spaces of his fingers standing in the middle of his bedroom. Letting him closer, reaching who knows where, out of breath when he kissed his cheek and said they should have set the table for dinner.

Time can get impossibly slow when you want it to pass, his stomach a twirling chaos after another hour of doing nothing but being a nervous mess. He grabs his jacket and heads to the airport. 

Three hours earlier than he should, staying in the parking lot of the airport gives him a naive security he is already closer to Jeno.

Jaemin loves physical contact, it's his best way to express feelings. He hugs Jeno, and time slows down through the arms closing around his thin waist, picking up the unique fragrance lingering in his nose a few seconds longer the moment he pulls. 

He missed him, his bubbly smile gleaming in the all dark circles and dizzying features, fingers tickling Jaemin’s chin fondly as he grabs his suitcase handle towards the exit.

Jaemin tastes happiness before the flavor of his soft tofu stew, watching Jeno’s cheeks full and munching next to him. He has to admit it is hard eating with one hand, his boyfriend not intended to stop holding him any time soon. Jaemin’s stomach couldn't find peace and he skipped dinner with his parents earlier, now too focused staring at Jeno.

His bleached roots are freshly dyed. In the last picture Jeno sent he had a neat black gap from the blond locks tucked behind his ears, longer than he remembers. 

Jaemin reaches to comb them in his fingers for a moment, a tight sheepish smile at the palm of his hand getting kissed.

Jeno looks handsome, and all Jaemin cares about is getting over dinner to hug him. Jeno lands at night for the first time, and his main concern was bringing him home as soon as possible to rest and be productive in the morning, despite having the feeling they won’t really sleep.

They talk so much in their calls and texts. It’s the only thing they can really do when they lack a simple touch, affection usually held in long stares through the screen. 

Every time one of them visits, they focus on the real sound of their voices not modified or faltered by their devices. On the concrete bodies they can reach with a finger and they’re there. 

No pixels, real skin texture and not a phone or computer screen as a thick barrier reminding the miles.

In a number memorized by heart, as if the sound of emptiness following an ended call isn't enough.

Long distance is teaching Jaemin to never take for granted the simplicity of having a loved one close. He thinks he’s becoming a better friend since he met Jeno, appreciating how he can see Renjun or Chenle in less than an hour with a car ride.

It should be routine, but it doesn’t happen as often to be used to it. The distance alone isn’t their only trouble; it is expensive to travel as much as they’d like. 

Their flights are generally not cheap ones and none of their families are particularly drowning in money. Sure, they live well, yet neither Jaemin or Jeno would travel as much if it wasn’t for their relationship.

They both work, save money they get on different occasions, make all of it possible. And that’s the most caring effort someone has ever done for him. 

He can tell his mother wants to consume him with questions but Jeno looks weary, still chatty and smiley being the one to politely initiate the conversation instead. 

Jaemin has the usual dumb smile fixed on his face he gets every time Jeno is close. He doesn’t notice until it’s his parents or friends reminding him later he is so amusingly in love. 

He can’t get mad or annoyed as they point it out, Jeno is the closest to the common definition Jaemin has of being in love.

The one you see everywhere. In movies, promoted in our lives, at every angle you look and it sounds so different from how he thought it would be. It can match with the idealized images society shoves down every person’s throat since you’re born into this world and have the cognitive basics to understand it, albeit it is different.

No one told him being in love meant they would sometimes consider and suggest the other dating someone else, with a broken voice in the darkest moments of their relationship. Maybe they could be happier, instead of depending on schedules and organized flights. 

Not being there when one of them only needs a hug reassuring everything is going to be fine.

To spare the pain when they’re brooding with tears at the corner of their eyes just at the thought of one of them actually ending up saying “You’re right, maybe I should date someone who lives close. It’d be easier”.

All they have depends on trust since the start. Jaemin trusted all Jeno told him about his life before he could see it with his own eyes was true. 

The rough description he wrote of himself reflecting how he really looks like, his age, identity, hobbies and fears. All of it, they both trusted it was real.

Jaemin learns Jeno speaks lowly of himself a lot, says he is plain without realizing how endearing he is. He doubts Jaemin can love him. Not for his lack of affection, Jeno is constantly afraid he isn’t enough for their relationship to not crumble when so many miles are separating them.

He reassures Jeno he believes in them, he’s not easy to replace even if the world and his city alone is big. And that’s when they fight, this month particularly relieved to see Jeno. They’ve been arguing non stop, boiling with anger when he couldn’t look at him in his eyes and only half scream at a phone with a bad signal.

A week ago, with the premise of seeing him, Jaemin thought it was over for them. Jaemin felt the freedom to truly be angry. He doesn’t worry about sounding crazy, mean, and it makes what he has with Jeno special going both ways.

Jaemin screamed that of course it would be easier if he was dating someone who lives next door, but he’s been waiting and waiting for a whole year and there’s not a day where Jeno isn’t in his mind. And he could never renounce that for something as selfish as craving him physically. It’s too late for that alone to influence their relationship.

Jeno’s fingers curl around his wrist, the other hand tracing the line of his jaw. “Tomorrow, now come here”.

Jaemin rests the towels he prepared for Jeno blindly on his bedroom desk, palms pressing to the boy’s burning neck. Jeno’s lips are soft, shaping under a bold pressure of his artificial smell of the chapstick he’s wearing.

There’s nothing better than catching the way Jeno’s lashes flutter and close as he parts his lips, following the ticklish puffs of breath on his humid cupid bow the moment his tongue kisses back. 

It always tastes like kissing Jeno for the first time, each time more special than the last one. 

This is one of the perks of long distance, it isn’t all a sorrow and hurtful wait. Mostly it feels rewarding. They did well, going through their tough weeks and months alone to crash in each other’s arms.

His mind is a construction of the gooey, lively, consuming churning of a stomach for Jeno. 

The way he kisses or rests his hands on him could never be enough to show all the whirlwind his heart takes in a few rapid beats.

“Happy one year, Jaem”. 

Jaemin’s smile has a bitter taste of guilt, it hasn’t been as happy recently. He can tell from Jeno’s eyes the same doubt lingers. His head shakes before sinking his lips at the most prominent point of Jeno’s cheekbone.

“I’m happy with you, please don’t forget it”. 

“I’m not always with you though”. Jeno’s forehead knocks with his, biting the inside of his cheeks. Jaemin can tell he’s trying to hold back his tears. 

Same habit he sees inside an airport every time one of them has to travel back home. 

“That’s not true”. Jaemin smiles genuinely, pointing at the left side of Jeno’s chest. “It doesn’t matter where you are. I’m always here”. He taps where his heart is.

Jaemin remembers the first time he truly started taking in the fact that Jeno is indeed real. 

It was the first night they slept together, when his hands traced his arm muscles and Jeno was nuzzling his neck, sweating loads under the thicker fall duvet.

Outside, spring persists on a warmer night, the tree he sees all year from his window view is blooming with flowers and green leaves. 

Jeno’s collarbone is littered from Jaemin’s nibbling teeth lazily staining purple marks. Some stronger waves of wind make his window tremble the slightest, covering a whispered groan.

Jeno’s tongue presses to his upper lip as they share a look, hands under Jaemin’s shirt as he settles chest to chest. They stroke his sides, ankle bumping to his calf as it slides up hooking behind Jaemin’s hip.

Jaemin holds his leg, slipping a few fingers at the black boxers hem hugging his thigh. He recognizes the heavy stare, the one he gives Jaemin when he doesn’t want to ask it out loud. It seems different, and he grows quite curious.

“You want to do it now?”. 

“No”. Jeno smiles, still tugging at the collar of Jaemin’s shirt to take it off. “Tomorrow morning, when your parents aren’t home… we could''. 

“They’re sleeping now”. Jaemin’s tongue maps a strip of Jeno’s throat, eyes shut hearing the low whine he makes.

“I like to make noise”. Jeno chuckles, a sticky peck at his bare shoulder. “And so you do”.

“They know we do it”. Jaemin lets him flip them over, enjoying the view. Jeno straddling his legs, his slim fingers opening from his stomach to his chest. 

Jeno bends to kiss his chin, grazes his nipples through his lips even, cheeky eyes watching Jaemin’s easy reactions. He naturally gets numbed by a pounding chest with him, no matter what they do.

“Mh, I remember their Christmas gift”. 

They both laugh louder than they should at two in the morning, a quick glance at the large box of condoms sitting under his desk. 

That was such a stupid gift, in all honesty they’re getting dusty down there. The only person they’d be useful for lives on the other side of the world.

“I had to give a few Renjun. He’s putting them to great use with his new date”. 

“What? Renjun has a boyfriend?”. Jeno frames his face, rolling to the side to kiss him. This one is slightly messier, some spit falling to the corner of Jaemin’s lips when they pull.

“Not really, a sort of fuck with benefits”.

“And I thought you were using all of them behind my back”. It’s adorable the immediate roll of his eyes from the narrowing ones Jaemin gives him. “I’m joking”.

“I would never. Imagine being that stupid to cheat on such a catch”. 

“How convenient my boyfriend is smart”. Jeno smiles in another kiss. Knocking teeth, having a hard time holding back how nice it feels to be pressed so close in a bed that has all the space for both of them to lay.

Jaemin bought a bigger one the second time Jeno visited. It was for a winter break, the longest period of time they’ve been together at once. His mother actually suggested he should buy a new one when he has a lot of space in his room. 

Jeno sleeps as if he wants to be one with Jaemin, they were just fine in his old bed solely for his clingy limbs. A bigger bed gets colder whenever Jeno isn’t near. 

He sees the positive side; there are more inches of fabric for his lovely fragrance sprawled and soaked when he leaves. 

Jeno’s knuckles turn white from the weird and strong press against the kitchen aisle, phone to his ear. He can pick up random bits of conversation from the silence surrounding them.

Every morning is lonely in his house. Jaemin’s parents are both teachers, getting quiet upon the six am rush breaking in noises of showers and breakfasts being cooked. Chaos Jaemin spends sleeping, his university lectures starting on an evening schedule.

He’s on a didactic break, one that for some lucky reason matches with Jeno’s. None of them hesitated to book a flight. The blond haired boy wanted to breathe some fresh air, offering to be the one traveling.

Jaemin adores seeing him relaxed as he does pressing his back to the hard white marble. Thick black lashes embedded with sleep, some words dragged in yawns, answering something his mother asks.

Jaemin has seen Jeno in various scenarios everyone else would look awful. It isn’t his case, handsome even with several lack of sleep and hair having its own life.

There’s a mug of tea resting next to him, refusing to eat anything at all since they woke up. It is easier paying attention to small details when you're trying to live a person in compacted amounts of days.

Jaemin knows what it means, Jeno does it often and it’s another part of his unspoken language. He tends to pick up his habits quicker if their relationship is a couple of brackets where he can witness them.

Jeno is oblivious as Jaemin shifts closer, chatting about airplane food with his mother. He lets him kiss his jaw. Threads his fingers in Jaemin’s hair, encouraging the slow placing of lips.

His stomach flips at Jeno’s trusting movements in his space. They’re never nervous, they look and taste like they spend every day together for a year. His friends notice it, so Jeno’s did.

“Jaemin is doing well, you should see him”. Jeno widens his eyes with a smile, sitting on the counter helped by Jaemin’s hands lifting him to lay down.

Jaemin meets his eyes when he moves the shirt to kiss his stomach, a funny wink biting the exposed skin of his inner thigh. Jeno’s breath stutters, humming positively at a question his mother asks.

His fingers turn fidgety, guiding Jaemin’s head where they both have been waiting since the previous night. Jaemin can’t help a light chuckle at the brief tug of his hair, fixing Jeno’s leg over his shoulder.

“We’re eating well, don't worry. I– need to go, okay? Love you, yes-bye”. 

Jeno slams his head with that clipped goodbye against the marble, whispering a rushed “Shit, there Jaem”.

“Careful”. Jaemin closes his eyes and welcomes in the breathy noises calling his name. He missed it, every part and shade. 

  
  
  


Jaemin’s body feels wobbly all the way from the shower to the bed where they heavily welcome the messy sheets. Jeno groans for the fifth time, biting his knuckles with a frown as he reads the piled up university announcements in his inbox.

He sits behind him, no clue how to give a massage. 

Pressing his thumbs in circles apparently works, Jeno visibly relaxes to his chest. He tilts his head to blindly kiss the space under Jaemin’s chin.

Jeno nods when Jaemin asks if he’s down for lunch with Renjun and his –not date but date– friend. Jaemin met Donghyuck a couple of times, visiting his best friend’s apartment and witnessing the two are far from friendly. Renjun can get incredibly defensive if he mentions it. He shrugs his shoulders at the thought, combing Jeno’s wet hair. The corner of his mouth lifts, noticing the hungry hickeys blooming boldly. 

Starting under his ear - Jaemin’s favorite spot to kiss him, down to the base of his neck. 

He’s seen Jeno wearing perfume many times. He favors softer fragrances, usually fruity and he sprays them behind his ears. Where the line of his hair starts. 

Jeno says his mother taught him it is the best place to wear perfume. It smells great to others when you hug them. Jaemin doesn’t know much about scents, he can only agree though.

He nuzzles there, a clean smell of shower welcoming. Puddle of damp blonde in his hand. A few compliments slipping in the mellow ripple of his tongue. 

Jeno smiles. He always does, giving easy access to that spot of his neck.

A faded pink colors his sharp cheeks, smooth skin marked with a dark mole sitting under his right eye. Flushed from the heated shower, noises still fresh and fading from the slit of Jaemin’s open bedroom window.

Jaemin knew Jeno was beautiful from the words in his letters; a delight finding out how gorgeous he is in person. His looks are a small part of it.

He finds beauty in the low sheepish voice when he sings the melody of a song stuck in his head. An immense strength he hides behind the gentle curvature of his eyes. The way he needs his space to be neat, yet when they’re together he can let go of it. 

Jaemin shares a lot of his feelings and so Jeno does. He’s a listener, could let Jaemin speak for hours and never get bored. He gives him cute noises, reactions, his whole body falls on his chest or shoulder when he laughs with his silent and uneven laugh.

“Now that I think about it, why do we bring Jeno to eat sushi every time?”. 

Renjun chugs down a whole salmon nigiri piece, cheeks puffed up and a thin drop of soy sauce on his bottom lip. He looks ridiculous, still Jaemin spots the hidden fond look Donghyuck has.

“It’s okay I love it”. Jeno nibbles the point of his disposable chapsticks, sucking the salty taste left on cheap wood.

They can say it is part of their routine. Jaemin introduced Jeno to his friends a year ago at the same restaurant. Before Chenle moved to Hong Kong for an exchange year. They won’t ever admit it in their group chats, they miss him. His best friends and their sushi restaurant dates. It is one of Jaemin’s favorites, he likes the colors.

There’s a fake cherry tree up their heads, pink petals threading in the light wooden colors and soft lights. The plates where they serve food are made of colorful patterns on ceramics. 

He eats with them between lectures, close to their faculty area. It is one of the bits of Jaemin’s life he shares with Jeno when he visits; a place he’d bring him if they saw each other daily.

Maybe if Jeno didn’t live in Korea he’d know this place as well, going out with his own friends. It is quite popular, many students pass by. They might have been acquaintances, even boyfriends. 

Jaemin can’t know, currently smiling as Jeno’s chopsticks steal something from his plate, eyebrows high unapologetically. 

Jeno likes the storm Donghyuck is. He genuinely laughs at his jokes, enjoys the funny banters with Renjun, almost aggressive to a stranger’s eye. 

Jaemin knows his best friend, notices the long stares he gives Donghyuck as he talks enthusiastically about his grandmother who lives in Incheon when he finds out that's where Jeno lives. 

Whenever he’s not looking, speaking more than his denial.

They jump from different topics. Jaemin's brain is clouded and only notices the plates piling up on their table, squinting his left eye at the empty glass. They need more water.

He takes a glimpse of Jeno looking full, stirring the thin layer of water in his glass. Distracted, eyes shifting sometimes to Renjun and Donghyuck in another bicker. 

Renjun complains about a horror they missed at the movie theatre they kept rescheduling. According to him, it is for Donghyuck being lazy.

“We see each other every day, Renjun. I didn’t know movies had such a short programme, it was probably a flop”.

“Well I guess we’ll never know, unless you buy me the dvd when it comes out”.

“It’s 2021 who uses dvds?”. 

“I do?”. 

Jaemin’s mirth dies down watching Jeno’s empty eyes. Lost in his own thoughts, not exactly there with them. He tries tracing his fingers to the back of his hand and Jaemin is surprised by how quickly he holds it.

Hands intertwined walking in a pedestrian zone later, cold shoes strolling on grey stone. A sky loading with darker clouds. 

His friends are busy talking to each other and he reaches a thumb to Jeno’s cheek.

Jeno wants to go home, unsure what was that dropped his mood so suddenly. Renjun has already caught up with them, walking ahead and giving them space. 

Jaemin holds his bottom lip, arms open for Jeno to latch his around his coat. They both soaked the fried food smell from the restaurant, his boyfriend’s nose dipped in the collar of his shirt.

He places a kiss on Jeno's lobe. “Two weeks, baby. All for us”. 

“I know. But then we have exams, and work. I don’t want to fight with you again”.

“We have to resist a little longer. Another year. We’ve been strong Jen”. 

They promised they’re going to move in together once they both graduate. There are no concrete plans, the idea has been lingering for a while and the future is unpredictable anyway. 

Mentioning it hurts and relieves Jaemin at the same time.

He knows if they bite the bullet and wait, at the end of the tunnel there is a future involving waking up next to Jeno every morning. They are aware it is serious to that extent.

One of them has to detach from their family and daily life to build a new one. Without considering all the bureaucratic processes behind traveling the world to make it possible. 

  
  


Spring didn’t choose the best weather for their first week. Thin and freezing vertical rain drops accompany the easy and natural routine they adjust.

An alarm ringing decently early, waking up for breakfast with burning eyes from the late hours spent watching movies. Whispered begs for five more minutes lounging in bed, to languid kisses following a pace busying them for the next couple of hours.

Cooking together, with an arm wrapped around Jeno’s middle, stirring whatever they’re trying to prepare. Pressing the shape of Jeno’s lips to his digits and mouth, gathering the affection they’re going to miss.

His mother scolds Jaemin for letting Jeno stay inside the house all day. She’s afraid he’ll get bored, coming all the way to Europe and see mostly their discolored walls.

Jaemin loves staying indoors, Jeno is on his same page. He suggests doing something productive outside and Jeno simply lures him back on the mattress, warm legs hauling his hips.

The sky outside favors their homebodies case, dressing up for a slow paced walk under a slanted umbrella they hold alternately. A short stroll in the city for the sake of leaving the house, somehow managing to wet their heads anyway.

The fabric of Jeno’s jeans jacket is darkened by a huge pool of water. Their shoes don’t suit the greedy rain wetting their socks, tiptoeing in a humid cotton twist. 

Jaemin is trying to save “Our new baby”. A dog shaped cushion he impulsively bought to hug at night, covered in a plastic bag smudged with rain drops. Jeno opposes Jaemin, he won’t use it. It’s going to be forgotten under his bed frame in a week.

Jaemin says it’s for when he’s alone, no need to be jealous. Jeno tickles him as an answer, probably looking ridiculous as they struggle to move on a straight line, letting out brief laughing shrieks. 

The umbrella falls off their heads in their battle, Jaemin steps a puddle to his exposed ankles. Where his jeans are rolled and his colorful socks can be seen underneath. 

They get impossibly wet, pushing each other playfully from the bus stop to Jaemin’s house door, hair dripping water when Jeno combs them freeing his forehead and kisses him. Sticky humidity filters in every slot of their clothes. 

Jeno’s breath heats up his cold face, hands trembling as he looks for the keys. He gawks at the endearing line of teeth he finds staring at him, letting Jeno cling. 

As long as Jeno is smiling without pressuring himself about the upcoming future, Jaemin is fine. 

Spring and flowers remain in a mix of rain smell from the garden open door. Jaemin’s father smokes outside, arms folded in his cream cardigan. The ivy growing on the door edges frames him and the puffs of smoke dissolving in a late evening breeze. A man tired from the long work hours, glad to be home. 

His mother had an evening off, turning the kitchen upside down to make a few korean dishes for Jeno. 

They’re all gathered approximately in the same confined space. Starting from the end of the kitchen where Jaemin steadies himself on the glass door next to his father. Both interrupting their words distracted by the funny view happening by the stoves.

His mother loves Jeno. Has been the most welcoming to him since Jaemin started showing him in video calls. A part of her knew the efforts Jaemin made to speak with the sleepy black haired boy living on the other side of the world meant more than the friendship they established they had.

She loves Jeno and proudly shows it, hugging the boy tight, pressing her palms to his cheeks. Jaemin grins. Jeno truly is a homebody, cheeks blushed as he nods at something she tells him. 

Jeno says he never gets homesick when he’s with Jaemin also for his family. And Jaemin can say his parents are inviting people, especially with those who matter in their son’s life. 

They show so much care for Renjun and Chenle, no wonder they are extremely attached to Jaemin's first serious boyfriend.

He had a few casual relationships that didn’t go any far than letting them know he was at least dating. There are other reasons why Jaemin had to introduce Jeno quicker than anyone else. He had to convince he was a nice guy alongside a stranger he met online.

There’s a new plant his father brought home to water, a table to clean before the smell of dinner grows stronger in the living room and Jeno closes his eyes with a satisfied smile. 

His chin rests on the woman’s shoulder, locking eyes with Jaemin. It doesn’t matter if his father sees him blush, nor if his chest hurts at the lovely sight.

Rainy days are made to find rescue in the gentle pattern of a family, on a louder laugh when it’s his father’s turn to tell Jeno he grew up so much. Encouraged by his mother never saving praises for the boy.

Jeno gets spoiled under the attention and Jaemin seeks that lighthearted smile. He turns at him biting a smile, a twitching question in his eyebrows. Jaemin shakes his head, plays with the hair he can grasp from his nape.

A thunderstorm turns progressively worse, roaring sounds knocking at his bedroom window muffled by Jeno’s breathy exhaling. 

His skin glistens with sweat, trembling whenever colder air finds its path to slip inside the same way Jaemin does with a thumb feeling up his side. Jeno’s hands curl at his tense arms, soothing them when he realizes the grip is too strong trying to hold back his sounds.

Jeno chuckles, a whine breaking the ragged happiness, shutting his eyes and nods when Jaemin asks if he’s fine. He tastes like salt and the bitter taste from the deceiving sweet scent he finds under his tongue, leaving a bruise on the sunken spot of his jaw.

They couldn’t wait for the morning to be alone. Jaemin needs to hold all that’s concrete belonging to Jeno, to feel the boy’s teeth pulling his bottom lip. 

Threading his long locks he didn’t bother to style during the week in the spaces of Jaemin’s fingers. Sinking his nose to his cheek as his hips stutter and Jeno loudly puffs out air elated. 

He sniffles. Jaemin can’t tell if it is for the weather making him catch a cold or this time he can’t find it in himself to be the positive one. They have seven days left before getting swallowed by their miles and lives. 

Fitting a face made of pixels and a lagging, delayed voice that’s currently whispering he loves him. Vibrating in his chest, in the fingers pressed under his jaw and kept in his pounding rib cage against Jaemin’s. 

“I’m never tired of you, Jen. I’m tired of leaving you”.

  
  


Jeno smiles when Jaemin comes back with a wet cloth for them, welcoming him to his lap. 

He lingers cleaning them, watching Jeno’s goosebumps interrupting the smooth pass of his fingers. They might need a warm shower, but his hand moves lazily and the blond’s eyes are already closed where he snuggles on his shoulder.

Rain starts to cease, plopping sounds on his window frame matching with the sloppy noise Jeno’s lips do leaving his bare skin.

The light on his nightstand glows and casts shadows darker than the night outside, lining Jeno’s washed out curves and features.

Jaemin finds peace in their quiet moments. Sometimes he thinks Jeno knows him deeply, to the point where words aren’t needed. Talk is cheap, that is true, yet on nights like these words harm the long soundless line. 

Tugging at the hem of a protective layer hiding all their fears; until one of them speaks, and the spell breaks giving them what they truly needed. An open, fragile heart.

A silence already covered by the world happening outside, streets stripped of bodies all possibly resting in their homes. Nature thriving and blooming from the rain quenching the constant need to run away.

Jeno’s body is cozier than any blanket covering them. Jaemin indulges on his chest, lifting his head from the half slumber at the tapping fingers to the curve of his shoulder.

“Do you know what is my biggest dream?”. 

Jaemin makes a short pensive sound, voice jaded. “I don’t. Mind sharing it with me?”.

“Saying I’m tired of you. Of seeing you every day, too much”. 

Jeno wrinkles his nose in a funny smile the moment Jaemin scoffs amused, fingers framing his cheek. 

“Obviously it would be a joke, I don’t think you’re capable of boring me. Imagine saying it and truly laugh about it because we can”.

“One year of patience is all I’m asking us, Jen”. Jaemin shifts to Jeno’s face level, arm slung gently on his waist. Jeno rolls to his side, long lashes closing in a short nod.

“I can wait for many others for you”. Jeno bites back a pout, leaning to kiss the slope of Jaemin’s nose. “But please let it only be for one year”.

They laugh, the bittersweet kind. Anticipating another goodbye approaching in a wide airport. 

  
  
  


Jaemin tucks the loose fabric of his shirt in the first pair of high waisted jeans messily folded in the drawer. He doesn’t like staring at the reflection in his mirror, nor he’s in the mood for effort. 

From the room’s angle he can spot his big calendar, today’s page marking in red ink one day left before Jeno leaves. As if his boyfriend’s open suitcase starting to get neater and full isn’t louder than any blind eye he can have towards the inevitable flowing of time.

His room is pure chaos. Except the bed – they spent a few minutes rearranging the ruffled sheets. Still with a few crumbs of breakfast at the corner of their mouths.

Jeno bumps his hip against a few pieces of furniture, a fit of quiet “Ouch”, pads of his fingers spreading on the phone screen. His head stays bent and finds place on Jaemin’s shoulder, arms around his middle zooming in the google maps street.

“Isn’t this the place?”. He mumbles. Jaemin doesn’t have a moment to check that Jeno has opened another tab on his phone, typing it himself.

His interest shifts to the phone case framing the blinding bright screen, his hand on top of Jeno’s holding it. Jeno makes a funny noise, clenching his arms around him as he catches him smiling. 

“You still have it”. Jeno’s wrist follows Jaemin turning the phone to the black phone case with a fancy ‘j’.

The rubber is ruined, fading into a dark brown color and getting oily as all cheap materials do but it holds so many memories. Jaemin has his matching pink one in a box and is in a worse state than Jeno’s.

His first date and kiss with Jeno flashes in his mind, rapid as heartbeat. A few ones skips with the messed pit of his stomach, twirling a long strand of blond hair in his finger.

“I thought it’d be cute if we match”. 

Jeno is going to be on an airplane in nearly more than twenty-four hours. Jaemin finds the will to smile, his converse shoes dirtying when Jeno stomps them in a non romantic playing footsies.

Colors of nature and city like a kaleidoscope flashing in the subway windows, long tunnels darkening the wagon and the sky’s distant surface. A gash of strong sunlight promising the date they planned is going to be easier if spring finally decides to act as such.

Jeno is always a bit stiff to show they’re a couple in public. The freedom in his eyes he spots sometimes is glorious, doing something as simple as keeping their faces so close their noses brush against the other. 

Holding hands in Jaemin’s lap, watching him play with his rings. Heads playfully knock together listening to a good song while they share earphones.

Jaemin inhales the spot under Jeno’s ear, watching his burning cheeks. He doesn’t say anything, shifting his skin closer where Jaemin tries to soak him a little longer. 

To compensate for the upcoming emptiness. It hurts when Jeno leaves, there are a few tears he doesn’t like to admit he sheds but his parents see his glossy eyes whenever he opens the door with a heavy sigh.

Jaemin usually drives him to the airport, consumes his sorrows in a parking lot and then drives adjusting to the months without him he’s about to face. 

As an unfair routine, a long cycle; of loneliness in the form of a constricted throat, wishing Jeno is flying safely to a destination that only means he’s distant. 

Hugs out of reach. 

He’s not truly lonely, their relationship fortunately goes beyond their –very tangible– gap. 

He knows Jeno is going to love him the same once he steps onto the floors of Incheon’s airport, suitcase heavier holding all he’s left behind. The urge itching to take the first flight and find him again.

  
  
The wind strongly moves his dark hair out of his forehead, eyes shrinking from the cool air, trying to smooth their cloth on the grass. It isn’t too dry, definitely going to stain the nice red and white plaid, albeit the moment he presses his socked feet in the soft square they settle, the lake view is breathtaking.

A blue, rippled expanse of water sparkling under the sun rays. The chirping of birds is particularly loud, flying lower and meeting the park field they're resting on after all the rainy days getting erased by the sun’s heat.

Bright green grass where Jeno hides his cheeks in, tickling his skin and Jaemin looks downward. He wants to kiss him, rolling to his side where he plops on his stomach.

He pats Jeno’s calves with his ankle, chin on his folded arms resting on Jeno’s shoulder blades. Jaemin kisses his nape, unable to avoid any touch. 

Behind long strands of grass, his heart on the ground for the blond to pick it up. Let it fly in the safety of his careful hands, where it belongs. Jeno sneezes, Jaemin’s giggle escaping his lips watching his wiggling nose. Jeno flips his body, hair half sprawled on the grass as he brings Jaemin inching to his face, gaze fond.

“Feed me”. Jeno’s cheeks shape in a mirthful smile at his confused look. “I cooked, you feed me”. 

“Ooh–pretentious, aren’t we? You literally made sandwiches”.

“And they’re some real high quality sandwiches I made with my own hands. I don’t think you can complain”.

Jaemin presses a finger to his chest, giving a look around the park. The disastrous weather in the past days made them the only adventurous ones having a picnic. 

He can straddle Jeno’s legs without any indiscreet eye ready to judge.

Jeno holds his wrists, sliding up to his forearms and lifts an eyebrow. Jaemin wants to scoff, grabbing the freezer bag and starts digging through. “Which one?”.

“Tuna”.

It was fun doing a boring, daily, domestic thing such as grocery shopping. Thrilling doing it with Jeno, a normal activity. 

Believing he isn’t just a guest for an ending amount of time, checking his mother’s list and having Jeno’s hand tugging him away from the sweets section. In his ideal future these are the things he’d like to find the time to do.

Clean their dream apartment, some music on and maybe stealing Jeno for a mindless dance when they’re supposed to dust off the bookshelf. Make every morning their bed together, prepare Jeno’s breakfast because he’s the only one who truly enjoys cooking and doesn’t treat it as duty.

Sit on the couch and resume their day. Not on their texts, not through his phone’s screen. That’s what he wishes for a whole year, and what he has to imagine so he can close his eyes and find a peaceful sleep void of trouble for another year.

In his dreams Jeno is smiling as he does under the blinding sun right now, pushing a bitten piece of bread in his mouth when he’s full. Jeno does it often, alongside saving Jaemin’s favorite part of something they both ordered so he can eat it twice. 

Jaemin rolls his eyes and eats, complaining he isn’t his personal trash can. He adores the laugh he gets in answer, moving where Jaemin sits and his legs circles around his hips. 

Jaemin is happy life noticed them, had its intricate way to let them meet. As complicated of a –allowing unnecessary hours of silence and space– the solution to cross their paths into one is.

He kisses the corner of Jeno’s mouth, where some mayonnaise stains it. Gross, Jaemin can agree with it, still he doesn’t care when his lips mapped every inch of his skin.

The most intimate, rough parts everyone tends to cover. For dignity, prudishness, sometimes law. 

They hear a loud sound up their heads, Jaemin lingering his lips to Jeno’s chin as he keeps his head bent to the sky watching an airplane take off. 

Jaemin hasn’t seen Jeno yet and he knows he’s sulking. A hand cupping his eyes from the blinding sun casting a shadow down his features.

He doesn't say a thing, spreading his palms on the rough woven of Jeno’s jeans. Finally taking in his worried eyes when he decides they should. Jaemin doesn't see his own are speaking ahead of him, Jeno’s gaze fleeing from them. 

“It doesn't change tomorrow I’m going to be up there and we can't do anything about it”.

“I love you, Jeno”. Jaemin frames his face, smiling gently as he finally looks at him. “When you're here, and in Korea”. 

Jaemin’s tongue presses to his own bottom lip. “Or when you send me those half asleep indecipherable texts''.

“Appreciate the effort”. Jeno jokes, chuckling with him.

“Exactly, lovebug”. Jaemin’s mild pout in his lips translates through the sincere stare he tries to convey all the hope and positivity he has for them. “We put in a lot of effort. You're giving us a chance every day”.

  
  
  
It is late at night, his parents are watching a movie downstairs and he can hear the dramatic music playing where they’re snuggled together on the couch. 

His feet slide on the light parquet of his room, losing the hold around his knees where he decides it is time to dry up the tears. Jaemin should be used to it, for some odd reason today it is harder to keep them in.

He asks to be alone. Every time his mouth opens to yawn or take a proper breath there’s another heavy sigh keeping him dead weight sitting on the floor. 

His father was kind enough to leave a cup of tea and a slice of cake from dinner. Jaemin's stomach closes painfully making it impossible to take a bite, sweet treat offered to the microscopic pieces of dust falling on the colorful icing.

Get over it, stop being a cry baby – is what his brain keeps screaming as he presses his cheek on the bed’s end and after a grimace he’s sobbing quietly. Trying to swallow down the discomfort in his hurting throat, hands checking his phone obsessively and this time not for the excitement of seeing Jeno.

Jeno should get off the plane soon, or he’s trying to find a train home and has landed. His priority should be getting to his parents safely, not texting him and he repeated it at least ten times before parting ways at the airport some hours earlier. 

Jeno said he shouldn’t stress, and Jaemin’s manic warnings were just a dysfunctional way to deal with the fact they had no minutes left.

Jaemin’s body is heavy whenever he tries to bring it to his bed, phone lighting up the dim light room with texts from Renjun. His best friend is probably scheduling a busy week of them going out, and Jaemin needs it. To be around people, maybe study at the library instead of being home where he knows he’s going to crawl in the bed sheets smelling of Jeno’s unique musk. 

Insane how despite airing the room it lingers everywhere, probably seeped in his own skin and clothes he can’t tell what’s his and what is Jeno’s.

He rubs with the end of the palms, where his wrists start, the lonesome weary blinking of his eyes. His back meets the mattress, naturally dipping his nose on Jeno’s pillowcase. 

Sounds funny saying something in his home belongs to Jeno when he as Jaemin Na alone is the biggest item he forgot to bring with him. 

Restless, the feeling of not being able to do anything concrete to spare that silence, prolonged in his chest and cold limbs. It eventually fades to bearable with the prospect of seeing Jeno next time one of them is going to visit. Probably in July, and if they're lucky they could spend a nice summer together. 

His phone vibrates, and Jaemin jumps to a sitting position, arm reaching quickly to the nightstand he almost knocks the phone on the floor. The cracked screen doesn't need another fall, to the point where he miraculously still sees and can slide his fingers on it without cutting them.

He should buy a new one. Constantly saving money he earns from his part-time job for the future; a house to be with a boy too far from him in this present.

It’s probably Renjun and he’s a fool but Jaemin has a feeling it is Jeno finally letting him know where he is. He’s right, can’t help the small laugh as he reads the texts and his eyes get glossy. It reminds him why they're holding on. 

And his eyebrows do lift mirthfully at the barely coherent words. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! <3
> 
> here is the [original post](https://twitter.com/jenlvbug/status/1370757158141370370) from my twitter.
> 
> you can also find me here: [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/ir02ne)


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